As we moved into the heart of the discussion, Raphael, who had been far more informed about the situation than we were, began to speak. He had arrived in the region two days before us, enough time to go and see what all the commotion was about.

  He started by filling us in on what we were mostly aware of, then transitioned to reporting what he had seen of the problematic dungeon.

  The dungeon in question was said to have been discovered one day further south, deep in a forest somewhere between Ashhold and the large, uncrossable chain of mountains marking the end of the continent, known as the Land of Men. The dungeon, or, to be exact, its spawns, had been discovered by a group of Verdenkind who ventured into the forest in an attempt to raise their levels. Like many encounters of that kind, it resulted in the spawns going after them. Many in the group would die to these spawns; only two survived to tell the tale of beings not made of flesh but of steel, with bones forged in fire, and joints that groaned like strained metal. Their loud words soon reached the ears of the local faith, who went on to investigate the matter, making the discovery that the "things" the group had encountered were produced by a dungeon. The fact that, in defeat, the beings didn’t break apart or leave behind a carcass but instead disintegrated like burning paper, ashes that didn’t even bother to remain, could only mean one thing: they were dealing with dungeon spawn.

  It was upon this discovery that a second message was sent out, the first being when rumors began to circulate about an encounter with alleged Mechanical Constructs. The second message came when it was confirmed that these Constructs were the product of a dungeon. Dungeon Master 07 had missed the first notice, unlike Raphael the angel. In the absence of Dungeon Master 07, Raphael, easily the second, if not the foremost, most well-informed person on the continent, took over. Upon hearing the news, he rushed to investigate.

  That’s why I expected him to arrive with far more interesting details. As it turned out, he didn’t, for a simple reason.

  "...While it was I who discovered the dungeon entrance, I did not pursue it into the dungeon," Raphael explained. "I intended to, but I believed it wise to wait for your excellency’s arrival when I received word of your imminent approach."

  From his seat on the sofa, Dungeon Master 07 nodded, seemingly very satisfied with Raphael’s course of action. "I see... I appreciate the consideration."

  "It was natural, Sir," Raphael responded.

  "Did you send word to the other Divine Emissaries and our colleagues from the Keysbrügr and W?hppr faith?"

  Raphael hesitated, his voice trailing off. "I did not..."

  This didn’t miss surprising Dungeon Master 07, who frowned. "How so?"

  "I intended to send word to them, but then I was met with something that has..." Raphael cast a glance at me. He had thrown these kinds of glances at me plenty of times already, no doubt believing I had no business being here, but so far, he had refrained from mentioning it. Here, while he still made no mention of it, it was clear from his gaze that this time, I was in the way.

  Deciding to address the elephant in the room, he finally spoke. "Sir, I’m afraid I cannot share what I have to say in front of... an outsider, for it is a message I have received from the highest order."

  I thought, My curiosity was piqued, but I was aware that I was no longer meant to be in the room. Standing up, I exchanged a nod with Dungeon Master 07 before declaring, "I will return to Herman." But before I left, I wanted to confirm one last thing. "Is that alright?"

  Dungeon Master 07 responded with an affirmative, "Please."

  I realized then that I was done with what he had brought me along for, to introduce me to the angel. The full purpose was still vague to me, but it was clear that it had something to do with what he had mentioned earlier about being able to reach heights worthy of our fellow reincarnate and traitor Jason’s vision, whatever that might mean.

  After closing the door behind me, I did as I said, heading off to join Dungeon Master 09. Having no reason to linger in there, I wasted no time inside the temple and made my way out, stepping down the large stairway. At the bottom, our carriage was parked, and I noticed Dungeon Master 09 engaged in conversation with someone. The man he was talking to strangely felt like he had noticed me. As I closed in on them, their discussion wrapped up with the man climbing his way up to the temple.

  The man looked about as old as Dungeon Master 07, just as sturdy, yet for some reason, I felt the man was much more ancient. His thick white hair, neatly combed back, paired with a well-groomed beard, gave him a distinguished appearance. He was dressed like a gentleman, carrying a cane that he curiously played with as he walked past me.

  There was something about him, a sense of déjà vu that I couldn't shake. I turned to follow him up a dozen steps before he stopped, as if sensing my gaze. Slowly, he turned around, and our eyes met. Tapping his cane onto the ground as if to anchor it, he manifested a smile and gave me a slow, acknowledging nod. It was a gesture that made me question why I had been staring at him in the first place.

  I glanced back at Dungeon Master 09, who was closing in on me. "You're back already?"

  "Hm," I nodded, before asking, "Who was that?"

  "Who?"

  "That person you were talking with?"

  "Oh... him," Dungeon Master 09 said, looking at the distinguished gentleman who resumed his way up. "I don't know."

  "You don't know?"

  He nodded, "He, almost out of nowhere, approached me..." Watching the man’s back as he vanished at the top of the stairs, Dungeon Master 09 continued, "He said to me that I reminded him of a… grandson of his… I think."

  "Oh," I sighed in relief. That explained why he was talking to Dungeon Master 09, but it did nothing to explain the strange sense of déjà vu I felt. I racked my brain to figure out the answer but was unsuccessful. In the end, I concluded that it must have been my imagination. One thing I had grown to trust was my memory, which had yet to fail me, I could remember with exact detail the entire content of the catalogue. If there was something that could back off that sense of déjà vu, I would have remembered it, here it seems to be none.

  Putting the matter in the back of my mind, I focused my full attention on Dungeon Master 09, who asked me, "How was it?"

  I wanted to give a complete rundown of what I had learned, as slim as it was, but the sight of the carriage’s drivers and, of course, our escorts made me explain in a tongue known only to me, Dungeon Master 09, and our brethren. "Everything went well as he predicted. He didn’t even press the matter of where I came from. Though I suppose he’ll be asking questions soon. I…I have a lot to tell you, but I think it's best I do it when he's there, I have some questions myself."

  Dungeon Master 09 and I exchanged a nod, agreeing to wait for Dungeon Master 07, so that’s what we did. Minutes went by, then hours. To pass the time, Dungeon Master 09 and I discussed topics that would be discussed between normal people, well, maybe not to that extent, since it involved what he and I were: Verdenkind and Highbreed. So, I suppose it wasn't incorrect to say it involved what would be normal for our displayed personas.

  As we sat at the base of the stairway, taking advantage of the penumbra cast by the carriage, the conversation we exchanged in the common language was open to anyone who wanted to listen, if they were interested. Our escorts and the coach drivers clearly were, but we didn’t mind. Openly, Dungeon Master 09 and I talked about his class, his skills and abilities, and his prospects for them. He seemed particularly curious about what subclass would be available to him. Considering his skills and abilities, and assuming he managed to acquire a title related to these abilities like I did with mine, there was only one subclass I could think of that he would be able to access as a Wizard.

  "...Elementalist," I answered.

  He seemed disappointed by my prognosis. "Is there a particular subclass that you were interested in?" I asked.

  A little timid, if not outright embarrassed, he confessed, "Magician."

  "Magician, huh?" I mused.

  Fate was a strange thing. If you asked random peons what class they were familiar with, most would reply with common classes like knight, barbarian, or even mage. This was understandable; you can hear these class names being thrown around on a common basis. But when you ask them what subclass they know of, most will struggle to find a correct answer other than the common ones: fire mage, ice mage, water mage. That was also understandable, as knowledge of subclasses tends to be something exclusive to Verdenkind and Highbreed. But among the not-so-commonly known subclasses, there was one that was almost as commonly known as the core classes: Magician. Most peons, including children, if not especially children, knew of this subclass, all because of a peon nursery rhyme.

  I chuckled before asking Dungeon Master 09, "Why particularly Magician?"

  "Don't laugh at me, okay?" He said, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "If there's something I've learned from my training, it's that I'm good at blasting things from a distance. But when it’s close to me, I'm powerless."

  What he described was a reality for most MP-centric classes, not just wizards. It was the case for sorcerers, even more so for mages, the former at least had the rapid casting advantage while the latter didn’t. The Magician subclass was unique in the sense that it made the agility attribute, normally an irrelevant attribute for wizards, a secondary attribute.

  "So, you want to have a class that’ll give you a chance to fight back at close range?" I asked.

  He winced and then chuckled self-deprecatingly, "I was thinking more... for me to duck for cover or make a cowardly retreat."

  "Ah, I see," I said, reaching out to gently pat his head, my fingers weaving through his hair as I added, "then it’s time to start investing points in agility and train accordingly."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  I could see the gears turning in his head as he considered this, and I couldn't blame him for the hesitation. After all, the path to becoming the class you desire isn’t always straightforward. In our world, choosing a Core Class is a privilege that every individual enjoys, regardless of the skills they managed to innately acquire in the earliest level. For example, even if someone isn’t particularly suited to the demands of a knight, they can still choose to become one at level one. Whether they thrive or struggle in that class is entirely up to their perseverance and luck.

  Once someone reaches between level 12 and 18, depending on their chosen class, they are offered a selection of subclasses. These subclasses are presented based on how they’ve performed so far. Just as they had the freedom to choose their Core Class, they then would have the choice among the subclasses the system deems them worthy of if there’s any. When I reached that point, I was offered two choices: Cryomancer or Hexcaster. The limited options made perfect sense, considering the skills, abilities, and titles I wielded at that time.

  For him, given his current stats, I could only envision the system unlocking Elementalist as a subclass. If he wanted to be offered the Magician subclass, he'd need to display the potential for it. Given his situation, the most viable way to achieve that would be to invest more points into his agility attribute. Doing so would increase the likelihood of unlocking agility-related skills and abilities, something that wizards aren’t entirely immune to, despite being an MP-centric class. However, it was a risky move, and the stakes were high. He could either succeed and get exactly what he wanted, or he could fail, meaning the points he invested in agility would go to waste instead of being used on more relevant attributes. Well, actually it wasn’t as irreversible as I make it sound. If investing those points turned out to be a mistake, he could reverse it when he reached level 25, just as I did.

  So far, I’ve gone through three major class milestones. I chose Sorcerer as my Core Class at level 1 and selected Hexcaster as a special class at level 12, a choice that was irreversible until I reached level 25, for that level is the milestone for all classes not only change class but also reallocate all attribute points to suit the new class one would then choose. This is a very important milestone as it is the one where one gets to undo every investment that has been done wrong, be it with attributes or classes. However, to me, no milestone had ever been so inconsequential. I had no reason to change my class, as I was content with being a Hexcaster. Sure, in the early levels, I had the same concerns as Dungeon Master 09 does now, how vulnerable I felt with my low base defense, but I got over it. I acquired skills and abilities that allowed me to bypass, or rather, work around that vulnerability.

  I wanted to reassure Dungeon Master 09 that it would likely be the same for him. But I chose not to say anything, because there was no guarantee that it would be the case. In the end, he would have to take that risk. Or not. Either way the choice was his.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what Dungeon Master 07 would think of this. I didn’t know what his opinion would be on taking a risk that wouldn’t be reversible until level 25, but I was certain he’d have one. If Dungeon Master 09 accepted my advice, Dungeon Master 07 would work him to the bone to ensure that risk wasn’t taken in vain.

  A small laugh escaped me as I imagined it.

  Sitting at my left, Dungeon Master 09 looked up at me, his curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

  I was about to give him some measure of warning when I suddenly heard a voice that made my skin crawl.

  It got only worse when I, this time, heard that voice call out a name I had long since discarded.

  "Faye."

  My heart sank as I turned toward the voice, even though I already knew who it was. I should have ignored it.

  At the base of the large stairway, I saw two men preparing to make their way up. But they stopped in their tracks when they caught sight of me sitting with Dungeon Master 09.

  The man who had called my name was a sight to behold. He wore an armor, one that was bloodied and battered, clearly having seen far better days. It was bent, scratched, and marred by countless battles. He seemed to be in his late fifties, his hair once black now mostly white, with only a few strands of its former color stubbornly holding on. His beard, a mix of white and black, made him look more like his father than himself. The only difference here would be that his beard was unkempt, a mess that only added to his disheveled appearance.

  Beside him stood another man, equally a mess, if not worse. He was older, his head bald, but his beard thick and messy. He was dressed in warrior’s leather armor, the kind that allowed full use of the class’s renowned dexterity, but it, too, had seen far better days. A sword hung at his waist, and his left arm was wrapped in bloodied bandages, which he held onto as if trying to stop the bleeding.

  The moment their eyes met mine, both men wore expressions of utter bewilderment, as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. I struggled to believe it myself.

  I looked away, but it was too late.

  "Faye! You’re Faye, right?" The man I used to call father mumbled as he moved closer, only to be stopped by our escorts, who swiftly stepped in his path.

  "Don’t touch me!"

  "You’re trespassing! Remove yourself."

  "Tres—tsk, get your hand off me—Faye! Faye!"

  "Miss Arianna, do you know this man?" one of the escorts asked, seeing how I was the man the man called onto.

  I almost spoke but stopped myself, shaking my head instead. The man’s face contorted in anger, clearly not expecting that response.

  I glanced at Dungeon Master 09, who seemed to be piecing together what was happening, his confusion giving way to realization.

  I stood up, grabbing Dungeon Master 09’s hand, and started to escort him toward the carriage.

  "Faye! Don’t ignore me!" The man called after me. "I’m your father!"

  The escorts remained firm, blocking his way as he tried to follow. "We are Paladins of the Seraphim of Love," one of them declared proudly. "Sword and shield to his Eminency, the Divine Emissary. Back off! Or you’d be made to."

  I hoped, foolishly, that he would listen to the escort's resolute warning, give up and leave it at that.

  But I should’ve known better.

  He tried to force his way past our escorts, prompting two of them to draw their swords. "Back off!" they ordered, their voices firm.

  I thought. I knew he hadn’t completely; otherwise, considering the level I assumed he was at, he would’ve made quick work of them. But for him to escalate this far, on Faith’s ground no less, and still be willing to confront paladins of a Divine Emissary… And now Justaff seemed to be joining in the madness.

  On the periphery of my vision, a notification flashed:

  .

  Justaff called out his name, activating a skill I was all too familiar with.

  In an instant, the men’s attention snapped to him, allowing my so-called "father" to easily slip past them and close in on us.

  I urged Dungeon Master 09 into the carriage, planning to follow, but before I could, he grabbed me by the arm.

  "What are you doing, Faye? We’ve been looking for you everywhere? Where the hell have you been? Weren’t you ab—What are you doing with the Faith?" His voice was harsh, scolding.

  I didn’t respond, planning to ignore him, but he yanked my arm forcefully, his voice growing louder. "Faye!"

  As our gaze locked, I had no choice but to look back at him. Up close, I could see the man I used to pretend to be a good daughter for.

  I used to pretend to be someone I wasn’t. I had left that life behind, and the freedom I now felt made me realize just how much I hated that part of my life. Not the comfort or luxury aspect. I loved that part, but the fact that I had to spend it with people like him.

  The sight of him made me sick.

  He frowned, his eyes narrowing. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

  "The name isn't Faye. I know no Faye. I am Arianna, and I'm asking you... politely, to let go of me," I said, trying to break free. But his hand was firmly holding onto me.

  I sighed internally.

  From inside the carriage, Dungeon Master 09 called out in concern, "Arianna?"

  I appreciated his concern, but right now, there was only one thing I wanted him to do. "Stay inside the carriage, Leo, and don't come out, under any circumstance."

  The man’s attention shifted to the carriage for a moment, then back to me. His voice, strained and trembling, was filled with a suppressed rage, like a volcano ready to erupt. "I don't know what you're doing with the faith, and I couldn't care less. You're coming back to the chateau with us."

  I echoed internally. I'd be damned if I do that. I'd be damned if I had to pull on that stupid mask again.

  I'd tried to forget about it, or, to be exact, I'd convinced myself that I had forgotten about it, but clearly, I hadn't. The sight of him reminded me instantly of the hate I had buried, pretending it wasn’t there. I knew that my only option was to ignore him, because I couldn't bring myself to utter any sweet words. Anything that would come out of my mouth would either be a hex or worse if not better a curse.

  I wanted to avoid this for Dungeon Master 07’s sake, but it seemed it had come to this. As he began forcefully dragging me, I raised my finger, about to point at his face when, out of the corner of my vision, I saw a silhouette that made me instantly dispel my attempt.

  "What's going on here?" Dungeon Master 07 asked, climbing down the stairs, with two people following behind him, two priests. One was struggling to carry a white greatsword, while the other carried a golden triangular shield atop a neatly folded armor of white and gold, clearly doing his best not to show how heavy it was.

  As if just the arrival of Dungeon Master 07 dispelled Justaff’s charm-like ability effect, our escorts immediately reported to him. "Your Eminence, these men barged in, harassing Miss Arianna and refusing to leave,' one of them explained

  Dungeon Master 07 nodded in acknowledgment as he descended the steps, casting a brief glance at me. Though he showed no outward sign of it, I knew he understood the situation I was in. His gaze then shifted to the man still holding onto my arm, his green eyes locking onto him with a piercing stare. "I do not know who you are," Dungeon Master 07 began, but before the man could introduce himself, he cut him off sharply, "nor do I care. I am Vittorio, Golden Dove of the Seraphim of Love, Divine Emissary of the Byg'm?k faith, and I simply demand that you let go of Arianna."

  Being addressed in such a manner only served to frustrate the man further. He went on a rant, "Arianna? Arianna?!" He glared at me. "The hell is that name coming from? Her name is Faye, she—"

  Before he could finish, Dungeon Master 07 cut him off again. "You refuse? Fine, have it your way."

  

  As he spoke, the man’s grip on me loosened, and suddenly, as if stumbling, he fell to his knees at Dungeon Master 07's feet. "What!? What have you done to me?" he asked through gritted teeth, looking up at Dungeon Master 07, who gazed down at him with an air of pity. He didn’t bother answering, instead turning his attention to Justaff, who rushed over in concern, calling out, "Lord!"

  Justaff closed the distance in a flash, but as he neared Dungeon Master 07, he was subject to the skill’s effect as well, though instead of prostrating on the ground, he simply froze in place. "Oh," Dungeon Master 07 mused in surprise, subtly increasing the intensity of his skill, prompting Justaff to stiffly reach for his sword.

  "Drawing a sword against a Divine Emissary on these holy grounds? Bold of you two," Vittorio declared.

  At that moment, Justaff was tackled by our escorts, who brought him to the ground. Under Dungeon Master 07's influence, he couldn’t muster any resistance beyond tense squirming. I watched as the duo, whom I knew to be at least level thirtyish individually, were roughly subdued by the escorts, whom I doubted were above level 15. They didn’t hold back, and neither did Dungeon Master 07.

  At that moment, Dungeon Master 07 looked at me, his expression unreadable. Though he said nothing, I knew he was silently asking what I wanted to do with them.

  ***

  "Are you sure about your decision back then?" Dungeon Master 07 asked.

  I was laying my head on Dungeon Master 09's small lap, his hand gently running through my hair. I turned to face Dungeon Master 07.

  "It's not like you to ask about something that's been done already."

  He chuckled, a rare sound from him. "I suppose it isn't." He paused, then added, "But that decision back then... it didn’t sound like you."

  I raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh? And what kind of decision would have been like me?"

  "The Arianna I'm familiar with," he began, his tone light yet pointed, "would have asked me to get rid of the problem, here and there," he casually mimicked with one hand the snapping of a neck.

  I sat up, shifting so I was more comfortably facing him, and asked with a half-serious, half-joking tone, "That was an option?"

  "If you desired that outcome, them drawing their blade against me would have been a half-decent excuse..." he replied, but from the way he voiced it, it was clear that while he considered it an option, it wasn’t one he was eager to take.

  "Choosing that option would have caused a mess," I noted.

  "They've caused a large mess already," Dungeon Master 07 sighed, a weariness creeping into his voice. I joined him in that sigh. After a moment of silence, he declared, "I should be worrying a lot more about this, considering how to deal with it, but right now..." He glanced at the sword, shield, and armor beside him "It feels so irrelevant."

  I remembered leaving the room earlier, before the angel could share with Dungeon Master 07 that interesting piece of information. My gaze shifted to the sword, shield, and armor, a guess forming in my mind about what they could mean. "What did he talk about when I left?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.